Why?
by Witka
Summary: Duo decides that his life has become too painful and takes drastic measures. Trowa wonders what he could have done to help.


Warning! This story involves many adult themes and bucket loads of angst! You've been warned.

Broken. Battered. Bruised. That's how Duo felt as he stood on the 20th story of Preventer Headquarters. He laugh bitterly as he surveyed the sheer drop before him, a chill wind whipping his clothes and long rope of cheestnut hair. So this will end it all, he mused stepping onto the ledge. End all the blinding pain that followed him everywhere he went, never changing never ceasing. He'd get to drop the mask, the lie he wore like a second skin soon.  
  
Another bitter laugh, somehow more real than the happy carefree sounding ones he had given off before. None of his 'friends', he sneered at the idea of *them* ever being his friends, had looked beyond the lie. All they had done was take pleasure from his body then beat him, abuse him, always expecting more after that. None of them ever tried to look beyond the sham that he put up, the mannequin that he was, that they knew. Except...except for *him*.  
  
"Trowa..." Unbidden the name came to him and rolled off his tongue like silk. The one person who could have understood him. A small smile crept up his lips, a genuine smile, at the thought of the green eyed pilot. It was a small, sad, remorseful smile, one that seemed to linger on the elven features for an endless moment. Trowa could have helped him but it was too late for that now. He had enough regrets that he wished to leave behind this night.  
  
The door bursting open broke Duo from his reverie. Several people burst onto the rooftop and he then noticed the crowd that had gathered to watch. Death always seemed to attract an audience, he mused as he took in the mobile suit heading towards his perch. Was it there to save him? Why? No one would miss the real Duo, they would only miss the false Duo he had created for them.  
  
"Duo!!" Ah it was them, his 'friends'. Why were they here? What did they care? He knew they didn't truly care whether he jumped. He turned on the ledge and watched them cautiously come closer. He saw fear in their eyes, but he was certain it wasn't for him. He grinned a truly manic grin at them, spreading out his arms crucifixion style. Crucified for your convenience, he thought, you heartless bastards. His laughter echoed on the wind as he pushed himself off the ledge with a foot.  
  
Falling he watched his braid fly before his face, snapping in the wind his fall created and he smirked before closing his aching blue eyes. At least the pain will stop soon, one way or another. That was the last conscious thought of Duo Maxwell before his body impacted with the mobile suits' out stretched hand.  
  
*~*~*  
  
The funeral of Gundam Pilot Duo Maxwell was held on a rainy Thursday afternoon. He was buried with full Preventer honors, including a 15 gun salute. His tombstone was glossy black marble with a simple, but appropriate, epitaph inscribed on it that read 'Here lies the one who laughed at Death. Duo Maxwell AC 180-199'.  
  
Long after the rest of the onlookers had left the four remainging pilots stayed at the fresh grave. The funeral had been a show, something for the media to attend with no real meaning behind it because all that was buried was an empty ebony coffin. Of all the disrespects Duo had been handed in life the one given him in death seemed far worse. After his body had been transported to the morgue someone had broken and stolen it away. They had never been able to find the thief and so in the end Duo had been denied even the dignity of a true burial.  
  
All of them felt remorse, sorrow, for what they had done that had helped drive Duo to such a length. What secrets, what private horrors would make the seemingly happy Shinigami jump? Who had the real Duo Maxwell been and had any of them really ever *known* him? Those questions seemed destined to be unanswered for Shinigami had taken them to the grave.  
  
Eventually even they left no longer able to view the grave slowly being filled. Only one figure stood in front of the grave as it was finished being filled with dirt. Long bangs of reddish-brown hair shaded miserable green eyes. No matter how hard their owner tried, he couldn't stop the tears gently tracking down his cheeks.  
  
"Duo...why...?" Why didn't you let me help you? Why didn't I see how much pain you were in. Why did you have to do this? Why...?

~* End *~


End file.
